


Break the Cycle

by godhateslev



Series: Komahina Stuff [8]
Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: ANGST TRAIN CHOO CHOO, Angst with a Happy Ending, Death, Existential Angst, Existentialism, Gen, Not Canon Compliant, POV First Person, Short, Spoilers, Temporary Character Death, Unreliable Narrator, a dive into komaeda's psyche, better than the summary i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:54:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28823286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/godhateslev/pseuds/godhateslev
Summary: Nothing.No light, no sound. No pearly gates or burning hellscape. Just nothing.It was everything, all at once, and then it was nothing. It was regret and relief and fear and then it was nothing.I take a breath. It rattles my lungs.The bottom of my shoes are wet. I am standing in a puddle. It is a puddle of blood, soaking my shoes. There are no walls and no doors. There are no limits, yet I cannot leave. I take a step forward. Blood splatters. It is everywhere, even on the ceiling. It drops on my head.~in which Komaeda is caught in between life and death.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito (implied)
Series: Komahina Stuff [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2194500
Comments: 6
Kudos: 48





	Break the Cycle

Nothing.

No light, no sound. No pearly gates or burning hellscape. Just nothing.

It was everything, all at once, and then it was nothing. It was regret and relief and fear and then it was nothing.

I take a breath. It rattles my lungs.

The bottom of my shoes are wet. I am standing in a puddle. It is a puddle of blood, soaking my shoes. There are no walls and no doors. There are no limits, yet I cannot leave. I take a step forward. Blood splatters. It is everywhere, even on the ceiling. It drops on my head.

I keep walking.

There is a boy on the floor. He has short blonde hair and is clutching the corpse of a dead animal. He is crying.

“Hello.” I speak. He looks up. “I’m sorry about your dog.” I mean it.

“Thanks.” He wipes his eyes.

“What is his name?” I ask, even though I already know.

“Yuki.” He responds. “He was a good dog.”

“I know.” I tell him.

The boy and his dog disappear. The blood rises another inch as another splatter lands on my face. I do not attempt to wipe it off. I take another step.

There is a woman in a rocking chair, reading a story to a child in a hospital bed. The child is sleeping.

“Hello.” I say again. The woman smiles, but does not look up from her book.

“Hello.” She says back. “Do you fear death?”

“No.” I lie.

“Good.” She speaks.

“What is his name?” I point to the sleeping boy.

“His name is Nagito. I love him very much.”

“I know.” I tell her.

The blood rises again, and the woman and her son are gone.

_Drip._

The same boy is sobbing on the floor again. I can smell smoke, though I cannot see it. Blood is splattered on his face. He is singing to himself. I stand above him.

“Leave me alone.” He mumbles, biting his lip.

“I am sorry about your parents.” I say. “You are very lucky to be alive.”

“I don’t feel lucky.”

“I know.”

The blood has risen to my ankles. It is remarkably silent, so I take another step.

“You again.” The boy says. He is sitting on the floor, hands tied behind his back. “Are you going to save me?”

“I can’t.” It is the truth. “You are destined to have a miserable life.”

“So what now? You want me to just end it?” He snarls. “I’ve already tried that.”

“I know.”

The blood reaches my calves. I am suffocating. I wade through it, trying to get to the next person. I want out.

The boy is a teenager now. He wears a metal collar and chain, a kitchen glove on his hand. I know what he is hiding. I am hiding it too.

“You’re not here to help me, so what are you doing?”

“That’s not a good attitude for a servant to have.” I explain.

“I hate myself.” He says.

“I know.” I tell him.

The boy is an adult. He wears a long green coat, and his mouth is taped shut. He stabs his forearm. Blood seeps out, filling the room. Every cut he makes only rises the substance on the floor.

“You’re making a mess of this place.” I say. He pulls the tape off of his mouth.

“This isn’t a place.” He responds. He cuts a gash in his thigh, wincing.

“What is it?”

“It’s nothing.” His eyes bore into mine. “And then it will be everything for a split second. And then nothing again. I will walk up to a little boy and his dog. I will tell him that I am sorry. And then I will be here again.”

“It never ends, then.” I observe. He shakes his head.

“It can. You can break the cycle.”

“How?”

“You talk to him.” He points to a man in a hooded cloak. His eyes are green and red at the same time. He is talent and talentless. Everything and nothing.

“I don’t want to.” I say to the other boy. He lets out a hoarse laugh.

“I know.”

He waves goodbye and is enveloped by the pool of blood that is now reaching my knees. I do not wave back.

The hooded man is now in front of me. He does not smile.

“Hello.” I greet him.

“Are you getting on the boat or not?” He gestures to a pod-shaped gondola. I do not know where it goes.

“That depends.” I say. “Where does it go?”

“The other side.” He says. “Come on, you don’t have all day.”

“What’s on the other side?”

“You don’t know until you get on the boat. It’s a risk you’ll have to take.”

“What happens if I don’t go?”

“You drown and start again.” He sighs. “I explain this every time, and yet you keep asking.”

“Can we talk?” I ask.

“Until time runs out, sure.” He pulls his hood down. His hair is long and black, short and brown. I cannot tell anymore.

“Is this really it?”

“I don’t know.” He says honestly. “Are you disappointed?”

“I…” I sigh. “I regret it.”

“Regret what?”

“Everything.”

“I know that feeling.” He says. “You can give up, you know. Stall forever. Or you can cross over.”

“Is this always how it goes?”

“Usually you try to kiss me, or tell me you love me. You’re thinking of doing it now. I’m not him, Komaeda Nagito. I’m not anyone.”

“Who are you, then?”

“Time is almost up.” He glances down at the blood. It is pooling at our waists. He pulls his hood over his hair again. “Are you coming?”

He holds out a gloved hand.

_“He was a good dog.”_

_“His name is Nagito. I love him very much.”_

_“I don’t feel lucky.”_

_“Are you going to save me?”_

_“I hate myself.”_

_“You can break the cycle.”_

_“You can break the cycle.”_

_“You can break the cycle.”_

_I know._

I take his hand.

The blood drains, leaving us completely dry. I can breathe again. It is euphoric.

“You did it.” He smiles.

“I know.”


End file.
